


The Maze of Intrigue

by TheDVirus



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boss/Employee Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Touching, which turns into real relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 18:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15563382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDVirus/pseuds/TheDVirus
Summary: Edward Nygma loves puzzles and what better puzzle to present to the people of Gotham than the exact nature of the relationship between he and Oswald? But as the game goes on, Ed wonders what the point is in playing when his feelings for Oswald begin to become all too real.





	The Maze of Intrigue

It had started as a private joke.  
A way to gain popularity by fanning the flames of rumour. Nothing overt: a lingering gaze, removing miniscule specks of dust off each other’s immaculate clothing or a bashful bat of the eyelids designed to set tongues wagging. To ensure that they got as much mileage out of Ed’s valiant defence of Oswald following Butch’s unmasking as the ‘mastermind’ (and Ed used the term loosely) of the Red hood Gang as possible.

As the mayor’s chief of staff, Ed recognised an opportunity when he saw one and told Oswald so over a cup of lemon tea in front of the fire, even as his throat ached from where Butch had grabbed it. He had encouraged Oswald to treat it like a game when his employer had raised concerns about how Ed would feel being seen as his ‘significant other’. 

‘People will make assumptions about us… _doing_ things’, Oswald had said and Ed had stifled a laugh as Oswald had blushed to the tips of his ears.  
He found it endearing how bashful Oswald became when the subject of sex popped up.   
Yet, after a bit of private practice, he took to Ed’s plan almost immediately. Ed theorised it was because it was exactly what Oswald had always done: used the assumptions of others to further his own agenda by manipulating their emotions.

And Gotham ate it up.   
How could they not when the footage of Ed dramatically throwing himself in front of Butch’s attack to save Oswald at the mayoral party was shown on the news the very next morning? The best part was that it hadn’t even been part of Ed’s plan! When Butch had lunged forward, Ed had instinctively intercepted him. There had been no fear, no doubt: just conviction and concern.  
Looking back on it afterwards, the strength of the emotion in the act surprised Ed even as he had immediately decided to exploit the resulting attention.  
Ed supposed it made sense for him to feel concern for Oswald. 

He owed him his freedom after all and acting as an efficient chief of staff was the least he could do to repay Oswald for giving him a place to live. The work was challenging but exciting, so many aspects and people to manage that it kept even a mind like Ed’s busy.   
But more than that, they were friends.  
Ed had never had true friends before. Now having Oswald, he knew that the relationship he had previously considered ‘friendship’ with his GCPD colleagues had been nothing but an empty combination of necessity, workplace courtesy and pity.   
Ed could talk to Oswald for hours about anything and everything.   
And Oswald actually listened.   
It had been easy to draw on the positive feelings he had for Oswald and exaggerate them. The game was just to use that well of warmth to excite the populace, tease them into creating their own assumptions about them. Both enjoyed the game because they were good at it. Ed hadn’t even needed to coach Oswald with the less obvious things like wearing complimenting shaded suits or mimic his body language.

Then Ed had ruined the game by overplaying his hand.  
By falling in love for real.

He just hadn’t noticed at first because his feelings for Oswald were so different compared to what he had felt for Kristen. There was no censorship, no need to compartmentalise or break the unattractive pieces of him off to better fit someone else’s mould.   
Rather than make things easier it had made things so much harder.

Every time Oswald raised Ed’s hand in victory, Ed felt a blush rise to his cheeks as Oswald’s fingertips graced over the veins on his wrist and had to suppress a delighted shiver when Oswald would lean in close, his whispered words tickling his ear. Even clothes shopping took on distracting (and not wholly unpleasant) connotations with Oswald watching intently as his personal tailor measured Ed as he stood on a stool, occasionally offering suggestions for materials that would be ‘comfortable’ or colours that would ‘bring out Ed’s eyes’.   
Ed coped by focusing on what Oswald gained from their friendship, knowing instinctively that a criminal mastermind and killer would be unlikely to return his feelings. Sometimes, in the dark of night, Ed even doubted if what he saw as ‘friendship’ was anything more than an ‘investment’ for Oswald. By releasing Ed from Arkham and giving Ed what he wanted (what he craved), Oswald got a superb chief of staff who would obey his orders but also improve them with unquestionable loyalty.  
Yes, Ed had to be realistic.  
Oswald was his employer first, his friend second and if Ed could be useful to Oswald then that would be enough. The ‘fake relationship’ for the press was useful so Ed would continue it and hope that the ‘feelings’ would pass if he ignored them.

So Ed would keep things professional. No matter how often he now had to bite his tongue or fight an uncomfortable squirm or indulge his…’urgings’ in private with a certain name on his lips.  
Surely, Gotham would find another story to preoccupy themselves with eventually?

**

‘When are you planning on tying the knot Mr Mayor?’

Ed nearly choked on his drink at the reporter’s question and turned to see who Oswald was talking to.   
He recognised the portly, gaudily dressed woman on sight: ‘Gossip Gertie’, columnist for the Gazette. Approachable, friendly and non-threatening. The ideal interviewer because she was popular, only ever wanted to talk about things that didn’t matter and didn’t push her subjects. It was just his luck that the shallow woman would unwittingly touch on the subject that had been causing Ed so much concern. 

Oswald was laughing at the question, champagne in hand beneath a wooden arch entwined with pink roses.   
They were standing in the middle of the annual Gotham Wedding Exhibition and Bridal Show. Around them, couples with arms interlinked cooed at pastel coloured balloons, munched on cake samples and fawned over various complex looking wedding dresses all coloured the same impassive shade of white.   
The show was supposed to be Oswald and Ed’s last appointment of the night: a quick look around, some pictures, chatting with some designers then home. Ed hadn’t expected there to be so many reporters. He wondered if their ruse had anything to do with it. Everyone knew the mayor always attended. Were they expecting some kind of announcement from Oswald?! It had happened in the past. But he and Oswald hadn’t planned anything! Should they have?

As Ed took his customary position beside Oswald, he silenced the racing train of thought and tried to smile. He felt a bit unsteady on his feet and there was an unpleasant pressure building behind his eyeballs.  
The champagne samples were hitting him harder than he thought.  
Then again, that was the idea. Ed had finally decided to tell Oswald how he felt. The wedding show would have been an ideal segue into the topic of feelings and acting before it was too late. After a few drinks for ‘Dutch courage’ and when they were safely ensconced at the mansion, Ed would invite Oswald onto the couch and tell him.  
He noted the various people milling about and felt a stab of envy as they kissed, laughed and hugged openly. It was so easy for normal people to be together! It wasn’t fair that Ed was only ever able to experience closeness through fantasy!

‘Now Gertie’, Oswald said in mock chastisement, ‘I’m married to Gotham’.

Ed couldn’t help but tighten his grip on the champagne flute at Oswald’s flippant response. Gertie, oblivious to Ed’s turmoil, continued bleating.

‘You can’t tell me that standing here amongst all these beautiful decorations and designs that you don’t feel a bit of romance in the air?’ 

Ed was becoming increasingly tempted to yank that one, sardonic, perfectly sculpted eyebrow off Gertie’s forehead. While usually indulgent of Gertie’s girlish demeanour, her probing was getting far too close for comfort.  
He touched Oswald’s arm pointedly. A signal to wrap the impromptu interview up and make their exit.

‘Maybe a little’, Oswald confessed, eyes lowering bashfully.

To Ed’s dismay, Oswald laid a hand over his and stroked it gently. He screamed internally at Oswald’s misinterpretation of the signal as well as the way Gertie’s smile widened knowingly.

‘And what about you Mr Nygma?’

Ed cleared his throat, sweat sliding down his brow but before he could answer, there was an unpleasant snicker.  
Ed’s eyes flashed to the right and he saw Jack Ryder smirking at him, obviously having overheard the question. Ed’s anger intensified. Ryder was the one who had covered his arrest, what he had accidentally done to Kristen and had made his feelings on Ed’s early release abundantly clear in his own column. Ed chugged the last of the champagne, ignoring Oswald’s concerned look. He was wondering why Ed hadn’t picked up on the cue.

‘Do you have anyone special in your life?’ Gertie asked, oblivious.

Her kindly, all too understanding smile pushed Ed over the edge. 

‘The only reason you care is so you can sell more papers’, Ed snapped, grabbing a nearby bottle of champagne from a table to refill his glass.

Gertie laughed uncertainly, her smile fading. Shame in lashing out, self-hatred and despair at the trap of his own making, Ed slammed the glass down and grabbed Oswald’s shoulder. Oswald gasped and dropped his glass as Ed yanked him forwards. The noise of Oswald’s glass smashing caught the attention of multiple festival goers who turned to look.

‘You vultures want something to look at?!’ Ed hissed at them, ‘Look at this!’

And with one swift movement, he kissed Oswald’s cheek. He felt his skin crawl at the various exclamations at the sudden display of affection between the mayor and his chief of staff. Oswald’s cheek felt soft beneath his lips but Ed felt him tense. As Ed drew back, he caught a brief flash of Oswald’s shocked pale eyes before he rounded on Gertie.

‘Does that answer your question, you parasite?!’ Ed hissed at her before practically fleeing the room, champagne bottle still clutched in his hand.

As he flung the glass doors leading to the estate’s gardens open, he heard Oswald frantically doing damage control in the background.

‘I’m so sorry Gertie, he’s just had a little too much to drink’.

The cool air outside hit Ed like a truck and he swayed uncertainly as he descended the stairs.   
He strode forward, rubbing at his eyes and trying to avoid stepping on any of the flowers lining the path. The sun was setting, bathing the roses in a harsh glow that made Ed’s eyes hurt but he knew that wasn’t what was making his eyes water.  
He had ruined everything and even worse, his act of intended rebellion had hurt no one but himself. As he swigged another mouthful of champagne, Ed wondered bitterly if the ache felt better than the emptiness. How could pretending to be someone’s lover feel so lonely? 

Heading into the hedge maze, Ed decided to apologise later. He had come back from worse and everyone had off days.  
Just crazy old Ed getting carried away after having too much to drink.  
Ed bit his lip and tried to swallow down the lump in his throat.  
Crazy to think that Oswald would ever want someone like him.

**

Oswald wondered why he felt so worried even though he knew Ed couldn’t have gotten far.  
Wandering out into the estate’s gardens, trying to spot Ed, he reflected on how much he had come to rely on him in such a short time.  
He placed a hand on his cheek and fancied he could feel lingering warmth from Ed’s kiss. As his shoes crunched on the gravel, Oswald was forced to slow his pace when his leg protested at the uneven surface. 

Ed had seemed a little out of sorts all evening but had insisted nothing was bothering despite Oswald asking several times. Ed’s uncharacteristic solemnity and withdrawn demeanour had worried Oswald.   
Had he done something to upset Ed? Was he supposed to have reacted to the kiss in a different way? He had just been so surprised by it that he had had no idea how to respond! It was far beyond anything they had done before. Had he unwittingly embarrassed Ed by not responding or jeopardised their strategy?

As he turned a corner flanked with rose bushes, his racing heart as he thought back to the kiss presented him with an answer.  
An answer he had been struggling to ignore, for fear that it would destroy he and Ed’s friendship.  
Oswald had wanted nothing more than to kiss Ed back.

He gritted his teeth: both at his cowardice and at the emotions coursing through his veins at the memory.   
Oswald knew he loved Ed.  
He had never felt anything like it before. His body was on fire, his cock heavy in his underwear even as electrifying chills raced up his back. The longing was stronger than any ambition for power and sweeter than any revenge. It was akin to an instinctive pull: an ache to fill the void of Ed’s absence.  
To Oswald, love was an insidious thing: a distraction that caused bad decisions and heartache. Ed had also often ruminated on its true status as a weakness. Oswald had often thought maybe this shared disdain was why they got on so well.  
But, over time, he had realised they shared other things too.  
They both played piano, enjoyed the theatre and appreciated the same kind of music. Ed deferred to Oswald’s expertise in clothes and Oswald in turn deferred to Ed’s brilliant strategic planning and timetabling. Ed helped Oswald with his leg and Oswald kept Ed company when he played video games. Despite all expectations, domesticity suited both of them.  
Ed had even learnt how to flawlessly replicate Oswald’s mother’s goulash recipe. And hadn’t judged Oswald for crying when he had tasted it.   
Ed never judged Oswald. Never looked at him with disgust, even when helping him bathe his bad leg.  
Ed made Oswald feel…safe. Like he could relax and let his guard down. When Ed wasn’t with him, Oswald found himself feeling diminished somehow, as if he were missing a part of himself.  
The night when Ed had saved his life, Oswald had realised how he felt. Seeing those warm, brown eyes gazing into his as Ed embraced him had been like dawn breaking. But happiness had been overcome by fear and Oswald had released Ed and excused himself, hastening upstairs to calm himself before he said or did anything to ruin what they had.

Ruin.   
That was the word.  
Ed would never want a ruined thing like him: a pasty, crooked legged raggedy bird covered in scars. He deserved so much more. He needed someone who he would be proud to be seen with.  
When Ed had suggested their little routine for the press, Oswald had been self-conscious at first but Ed had thrown himself into it so enthusiastically that Oswald had found his confidence infectious. If it wasn’t real, it was easy to show Ed affection, Easy to play off any over enthusiasm as being ‘lost in the role’.   
Oswald knew Ed had his own problems distinguishing fantasy from reality. He never went into detail but Oswald had seen the notes from Ed’s sessions in Arkham and seen him drift into a fugue state or answer an unasked question aloud. It was Oswald’s job to keep them both grounded and he couldn’t do that if even he was confused about the reality of what they had!  
Spotting a sign for a hedge maze, Oswald followed the arrow, having discerned Ed’s obvious destination.   
If Oswald could be there for Ed then that would be enough.

**

‘Room for one more? I, ah, don’t have an umbrella for once’.

Ed shuffled over on the bench, leaving room for Oswald to sit beside him. Outside the safe shelter of the gazebo, rain began to patter down. Ed tapped his foot. It seemed even the weather was intent on his humiliation. They would be stuck here for a while. He considered hiding the champagne bottle but decided against it. The damage had already been done.

‘I know you’re angry’, Ed said.

‘Of course I’m angry’.

‘I didn’t mean to-‘ Ed began but Oswald wasn’t listening.

‘Which one of them upset you? That imbecile Jack Ryder?!’

Ed laughed bitterly at Oswald’s earnest, angry expression. 

‘I…I don’t know’, Ed said, staring at the gazebo floor.

Oswald looked at him doubtfully. ‘I don’t know’ was not a phrase in Ed Nygma’s vocabulary. 

‘Really?’ Oswald asked, ‘You have had too much to drink’.

He held out an expectant hand for champagne bottle.

‘Don’t worry once you’ve sobered up, we’ll deal with whoever it was’, he finished.

‘So, wait a minute’, Ed said, ‘You’re not mad about…what I did?’

He noticed how Oswald’s eyes darted away before he gave a unabashed shrug.

‘Why would I be mad?’ Oswald said, ‘That little stunt’ll keep them busy for the next two weeks! All part of the plan right?’

Ed mumbled something.

‘What’s that?’ Oswald asked.

‘I said ‘no’!’ Ed snapped, ‘No, it wasn’t part of the plan!’

‘I don’t understand. Why do it then?’

A hundred excuses ran through Ed’s mind but only one answer escaped his lips.

‘Because I wanted to’, Ed said thickly.

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m done wondering ‘if’ and am starting to wonder ‘why not’?’  
Ed took another long drink of champagne and scoffed before continuing.   
‘Who am I kidding? I know why not’.

He saw Oswald’s hand still reaching for the bottle. He handed it over. It was nearly empty anyway and Ed’s stomach was protesting at the thought of finishing it.

‘Ed’, Oswald said, ‘Talk to me’.

Ed rubbed his eyes, knocking his glasses askew. Oswald stayed quiet, waiting for Ed to gather his thoughts.   
After a few futile seconds, Ed just talked.

‘I don’t want to cause you any problems. It was enough of a risk appointing me as your chief of staff even though I advised you not to. I thought we could use it, turn your association with me into a strength instead of something people could use against you. And now I-I’ve gone too far. I’ve ruined everything’.

‘You have really skewed priorities if you think that little spectacle ruined anything’.

‘I’m not talking about our little show for the cameras. Like an act at a circus for people to gawk at and laugh about! I ruined it! I-I didn’t want _it_ to be like that!’

‘What are you saying?’ Oswald asked quietly.

Ed chanced a look at Oswald’s face. It was impassive, Oswald listening intently to everything ed was saying. Ed recognised the look: Oswald only focused this much when he was trying to detect a lie in what he secretly hoped was a truth.  
It gave Ed the courage to say what he needed to say.

‘What I should have said all along. Oswald, I-I think I love you’.

‘You think or you know?’ Oswald asked in a strange, emotionless tone.

‘I know’, Ed reaffirmed even as he felt his knees shaking.

‘So do I’.

‘It was that obvious?’ Ed asked, crestfallen at his lack of subtlety and confused at Oswald’s growing smile.

‘No. I know because I feel the same about you’, Oswald said, hands clasped in his lap, ‘I’ve known since that night on the couch. When it was so hard to just walk away after that hug’.

Ed replayed the sentence in his throbbing head even as he felt a more explicit part of his anatomy throb affirmatively. 

‘Why didn’t you say anything?!’ he asked.

‘The same reason _you_ didn’t!’ Oswald cried, ‘I didn’t think you felt-I mean, nobody’s ever, _I’ve_ never felt like...’

Oswald’s hands gesticulated widely as he frantically tried to articulate. Ed, recognising Oswald’s frustration, took hold of his hands.

‘Like what?’ Ed asked.

Oswald cheeks reddened and he exhaled shakily in quiet delight before answering.

‘I’ve never been in love’.

His eyes widened at voicing the sentiment aloud and a hand rose as if to touch his mouth. Ed felt a rush of affection at Oswald’s innocent wonder. 

‘I thought I was coming down with something at first’, Ed said, reflecting, ‘The nausea, the heated cheeks, the…’vibrant’ dreams - why are you laughing?’

Ed’s confused expression just made Oswald laugh harder at the blunt statements. When Ed’s brow furrowed, obviously concerned that Oswald was mocking him, Oswald stifled his giggles.

‘I’m sorry’, he said, wiping his eyes, ‘That’s just so… _you!’_

‘I’m quite the hypocrite’, Ed conceded with a self-deprecating laugh, ‘All my tough talk about ‘love as a weakness’ and I can’t practice what I preach’.

‘You’re just really bad at admitting when you’re wrong’, Oswald joked.

‘Well, when evidence is staring me in the face it’s kind of hard to ignore it’.

‘My mother always said ‘life only gives you one true love’', Oswald said philosophically, When it does, you should run to it’.

‘You always say ‘fortune favours the bold’’, Ed said, his heartbeat loud in his ears, ‘Permission to do something incredibly impulsive?’

‘Me first’, Oswald smiled, licking his lips as he took hold of Ed’s tie.

Their lips moved together slowly at first, the soft searching touches coaxing small gasps and moans from both participants. Ed reached up and entwined his fingers in Oswald’s short hair, holding him in place as the kiss deepened, the hint of tongues peeking between lips and gently teasing tips. A pleasant haze settled on them despite the heavy rain beyond the gazebo and Ed sighed in utter contentment as he felt Oswald’s strong fingers take hold of his shoulders.   
All the doubt and fear that had been building up inside of him was gone, replaced with the utter certainty that this was exactly what he had been longing for. Dreaming of. 

After a few seconds, the kiss ended naturally with both men breathing heavily, dark, diluted pupils begging each other for more.

‘How ever are we going to get out of here?’ Oswald asked, beginning to undo Ed’s tie.

‘By touching the nearest wall and following it to get out’, Ed answered automatically, ‘It’s a common yet long winded way of escaping-‘

Oswald’s expression made Ed hastily backtrack.

‘I mean, ‘But Oswald, we only just got here’’.

‘Good answer’, Oswald purred and pulled him in for another kiss.


End file.
